Quietly drifting through the stardust, celestial spotlights.
Shattering my wings, the steel blade of a knife.
How many times has it been killed, then reborn?
My immortal soul…
The Empress is drawn out of her reverie by the ache of her prosthetics. The Confederate bio-grafts are not as good as the synth-flesh ones were – but they do allow her to leave the Harmonia. Not that she really does anymore. Beneath her throne, she can see the chaos in the Golden City, her capitol – formerly Elamoore. And before her, a ghost from the past hovers in challenge, superimposed on the tactical display.
The years have been kind to Gabriel, the extra gray making him look more dignified. It didn't hurt his efforts at rallying the remaining forces of Abaddon, either. "I am unable to pinpoint the transmission source, Empress," the ship's voice whispers through the neural link. "It is definitely being relayed through one of the airships." There are only a few large enough to hide a reflector, but they are spread out between Harmonia and the Gateway target site; Terran dirigibles and the few remaining Silent-Ones Titan Carriers.
"Tasha, it's over," Gabriel's image claims. "Bellerophon has the high ground, and our range is far greater than yours. Abandon the plan to destroy the Gateway Tower, or risk losing your city."
It's hard to focus for Tasha – Empress Bloodwings. Seeing Gabriel after so many years is painful. Seeing him oppose her, and still intact, admired… even loved, while she is barely holding on is even harder. She knows the Abaddonian Empire she forced into being will not survive her – but she will not let it fall to mages, imported from Sinai. The Gateway must be closed.
"You expect me to believe you'd really open fire on civilians?" she rasps, forming a cruel grin. "You're still stuck in the past, Gabriel, but me… I've evolved… " What matter if the Pit is destroyed? whispers a familiar voice in Tasha's mind. Not that of the AI, or of General Raehab standing behind her. The voice of her dreams, the voice that's always been there when others abandoned her. Abaddon. They cannot attack you directly, for fear of searing the surface of the world.
It fills her with warmth, just as it did when she was at her lowest, years ago…
Again I play free of any rules.
I rely only on myself.
The flames, the flames…
And that is all I know.
The tremors were felt in the Pit, causing the remains of the Winged Citadel to collapse – but the dam held. The shockwaves were felt as far off as New Zion and Expedition City. The ash and debris of Star City, the capitol of the Silent-Ones, fell like rain over most of the hemisphere. The blast launched some fragments into temporary orbit, before they rained down as meteors to light the sky.
"Target annihilated," the clockwork Karnor-Vartan synth reports, although Tasha can see it clearly for herself. It meant the end of the rebellion, and more importantly the elimination of competing technology. The only thinking machines now belonged to Tasha and the JEF.
"They will all fall in line now," said the soothing voice in her ear. "Abaddon is yours, Empress Tasha; my new Enyo. You must make them all worthy of it." Despite that, Tasha felt… numb. Even now, in the light of the giant mushroom cloud spawned of antimatter annihilation, she only thought of Gabriel, and how he abandoned her. But… didn't she have a god now? Or was it all in her mind, an artifact of the implants? No, Abaddon was real – she could feel him, even as he lowered her to the floor and peeled off her armor. Nothing could possibly be more real.
There is no other role I seek.
Today I am simply a player.
There is nothing that I regret.
Quietly drifting through the stardust, celestial spotlights.
"Orbital bombardment detected," Harmonia announces, as Gabriel says, "I was afraid it would come to this. I'm sorry… " And then he is gone.
"What orders should I relay back to the capitol, Your Highness?" Raehab asks, sounding nervous. Out of the corner of her eye, Tasha sees Abaddon. The god seems happy.
Empress Tasha – Empress Aldara Tasha 'Bloodwings' – glances to where Abaddon had stood, smiling, her gaze lingering a moment. She knows why she fears to fully accept Abaddon – she's always known – but even surrounded by followers, she has been alone. No, not merely alone, abandoned, betrayed. Those who once loved her stand arrayed against her, and her rule in crumbling. Power is all she has now; raw power. Yes, it is loneliness that causes her to cling to Abaddon, to ignore what she knows, deep in her heart: He's using her. Just a tool, for all her power, she is just a tool. And seeing Gabriel in her darkest hour, arrayed with all she once loved, against her, she realizes she no longer cares anymore.
I was wrong, she thinks as her General awaits her command. I gave up everything – my life, the JEF, everything – to bring peace to this world, and they spit upon it! The harder I try, the more they resist – the more they cling to war! To empty platitudes and worthless answers that simply maintain the status quo, so they can forget how pointless and hopeless they are. They do not want peace; they do not want prosperity. They wish to be better, they to serve themselves! Tasha's fist slams down against the padded seat of her throne, the woman sucking a breath in through her ruined, insectile face. "They are worthless," she growls, her eyes then flicking to where Gabriel had been. Gabriel. Her emotions convulse, twisting all the regret, all her pain and loneliness in upon itself; in, to hate. Hate. I see now. That is the answer. You were right. Harmonia. Abaddon is right. IFF change: we are Enyo. Prepare the weapon.
Rising from her clockwork throne, Tasha draws herself to her full height, wings flaring. "I will not concede! I will not surrender! General, tell them to fight until the end – Harmonia, no, Enyo! Target the remaining cities! If they desire their victory so much, let us see if they are willing to sacrifice everything for it!"
"Rising to attack altitude," the ship announces. Then the floor rocks, as something flashes past. The floor display goes blank, as does the surround. "Ground impact, initiating inertial stasis… "
The red woman of Abaddon barks a laugh at the display. "Can you hear me, Gabriel?! Do you enjoy it, watching thousands – no, millions – die?! Perhaps you long for the dream I woke you from! Come to me, and I will return you to it!"
Letting go …
Once so hard, has become effortless. The circle has broken; all that remains is the spiral, down, down, until there is nowhere to go. Until there is nothing left. If she cannot be loved, she will be feared. And if she cannot be feared, then … there will be no one left to offer an opinion!
"Enyo, my other self – trace the origin of that orbital strike."
There's a moment of discontinuity, as time slows to a glacial place within the throne room. It protects those inside from the buffeting as Enyo rises up like an armored cork atop a fountain of flame. When things speed back up, the display returns. The Pit of Himar is gone, replaced by a vast impact crater. "Impacter backtrace complete," the ship announces. "Origin: Sheol. Speed: five kilometers per second. Mass: 110 tons. Traces of Incursion Stator Crystal detected."
"Our children have grown fast," Abaddon comments, still looking and sounding amused.
"It's… gone," Raehab says, kneeling down as he stares through the display.
"Sheol. Another betrayal, then." Tasha just laughs and finds it just keeps building. It's all hilarious; a cosmic joke. Here she is, destroying everything she worked so hard for! Everyone she ever loved! She's barely even a person, now! The laughter just won't leave her. "Forget the the cities – we'll return to them. Target Sheol. Target Orpheus. Let's add a moon to the list!" She doesn't even notice, that her city has perished.
"To move into range and still fire will exhaust our remaining fuel," the AI notes. "Detonation of remaining fuel can create an explosion strong enough to devastate all surface structures within a 2000-mile radius."
"Hmm! Saving yourself, Gabriel? How unlike you!" The laughter dims, and Tasha turns back to the display. A smile without warmth crosses her face, like the rictus grin of a corpse. "So. Sheol. I can destroy you … Or, I can destroy every living thing on this world. Save Abaddon, or save yourself … " Tasha holds her hands out, like a balance, and looks at them as her expression slide in to a smirk. "Balance in all things, even in destruction! What will it be, Gabriel? Save yourself? Save millions of innocent people? Well, 'innocent.' Worthless may be a better term? Betrayers. Pointless … hopeless … useless." She then cocks her head to the side, glacing at the kneeling Raehab. He's been with her since the beginning; bodyguard, general, and lover. But so was Gabriel … "That reminds me. Enyo? Kill Raehab. In fact, kill everyone on this ship, save ourself." Her gaze then flicks to the screen. "Clock's ticking, Gabriel!"
"Ta-" Raehab begins to say, but is cut short. His head falls to the floor, his body following shortly after. The holographic display reappears after the brief co-opting of its lasers.
"Melchior is fueled and ready for you, Empress," the ship announces. Abaddon is nowhere to be seen now.
"There. No distractions. Nothing ruins a conversation like a knife in the back." Ahh, Melchior. That reminds me … "Well, Gabriel?" "Continue to ascend in to range, prepare to fire upon Sheol with all remaining fuel."
There's no reply from the communications system. The view outside begins to darken, as the ship rises through the atmosphere, dodging and zig-zagging to avoid being targeted. It all seems to be happening too fast, but Tasha knows it's an illusion; there's no need for her to deal with hours of boredom after all, so the stators have slowed down time for Tasha. "Bellerophon located," Enyo reports. A long distance image of the only other surviving Expedition vessel appears. It's not in orbit around Sheol however – it's been waiting in Abaddonian orbit.
"Oh! How clever! They're using Orpheus's weaponry! Well! It looks like I'm out maneuvered. Haha!" "I see you, Gabriel. I know Orpheus fired those shots – and perhaps they have more. It no longer matters. Mortality is a sickness, Gabriel. A sickness that must be cleansed – and there is only one cure. I'm so sorry I couldn't see your face … before I remove it." Tasha aligns the weapon's system's, but not at the JEF Bellerophon – at Sheol. "Fire upon Orpheus. I will not have rogue AI presuming to oppose me. After firing, use all remaining power to increase mass – triangulate center impact point among remaining cities. I will board the Melchior now. Assist my launch in reaching the JEF Bellerophon. You may exceed safeties; this will be your final task. I am disconnecting now."
"It has been a pleasure serving with you, Empress," Enyo replies. A horse and chariot await Tasha outside of the bridge.
"You were the only one I could count on in the end. I will likely join you soon, but if not, look upon me from heaven when the planet is still, and I alone remain." Tasha tilts her head as the arm withdraws, then turns and walks out, never looking back.
The corridors are a mess. Enyo had simply used the stators to crush the rest of the crew, but the synth-horse navigates around any likely slippery spots as he brings Tasha to the hangar. Melchior stands waiting, the extra bulk of the auxiliary stator system thickening his shoulders and legs, as well as the extra power packs that have replaced the old plasma jet engines on his back. Around his hips hang extra weapons – golden clockwork-inspired hyper-velocity pistols, with the two halves of the shaard attached to the armored forearms.
Tasha holds her arms out before her Titan as she stands amidst the carnage, gazing upon her work of art – her final weapon. "Now is the time! Now, we end everything! I am coming, Gabriel!" Her wings snap out and she takes to the air.
Flying is painful still from the old wounds and grafts. But it's short lived, as Tasha reaches the cockpit and hooks in. "It has been a while, Tasha," the Super-Gryphon says once the neural link is established.
"Yes. Yes it has. We are together again; Enyo will soon be no more. And soon, neither will the Bellerophon. The doom clock rings; the end is nigh." The Golden Empress initiates startup, and begins her Super-Gryphon for the hatch. "We are reapers, Melchior. We are the harbingers of the end, you and I. And, we are not people. We are monsters. No, gods. Let the world feel our wrath." The stators flare, and the Melchior launches in to its final sortie.
Enyo flashes out from beneath the Titan, dodging away even as it gives the craft a push towards its target. Melchior's own stator-propulsion systems accelerate it like a missile. "Five minutes to intercept. Do you plan to board Bellerophon?" the AI asks.
"Perhaps. I'll have my fun first, I think. Weapons ready; target the linear cannons – we can't have them ruining Enyo's final moments, now can we? After that, target the stators. They may separate to evade me – perhaps self-destructing the ship? Target the self-destruct systems nodes, as well as the separation latches. No escape." Tasha smiles in the coffin-like darkness of her cockpit. It will all be over soon. Before her hate is spent, before the world can end, Gabriel must die.
The image of the graceful ship grows larger, until Tasha can see the golden wings and horse-head decorations. She also sees the doors of the Titan bay open, and something rise up within. It's taller than Melchior, wearing golden armor over red skin. To add further insult, it looks like a female Karnor, red with golden hair that impossibly flows in a non-existent breeze. There are no wings, but the display highlights the crystal structures visible on its limbs and probably on its back as well: Incursion Stator Crystal, harvested from the remains of an island-sized alien monster. The figure draws a sword, its edges glowing like the cutting surface of a shaard. It aims the sword straight at Melchior in challenge.
"The Themis-Skoll??" The scarred Empress barks a laugh in the cockpit, throwing her hands wide. "How perfect! Ah! Is that you in there, Gabriel? Nora, perhaps? The end will be this that sweeter! Combat mode. Shoot it out of the sky."
Pistols in hand, Tasha becomes Melchior, floating in space. The challenging Titan launches towards her, as the Bellerophon begins to accelerate away. "You always wanted to try yourself against me," the other pilot calls over the comm channel. Nora, but younger. Her clone body would only be around twelve to thirteen years old, physically.
"You presume you are my equal. Once, perhaps. But no longer. You are simply a ghost of the past, a memory I once found in the dirt – in the ashes of failure." The Melchior wastes no time – it accelerates in to combat, pistols in hand, shaards on its wrists at the ready. It is a match for a legion of Titans – for armies. She knows this; it was built for the task. As she closes, the pistols open up, hurling mass downrange at frightening speeds. "Again, and again, a failure! The world has room for but one of us, and I will not be impeded by a mere child. Die, Nora!"
Themis-Skoll dodges, bringing up its left arm in a shield motion. A distortion appears; some sort of stator-generated shield. The hypervelocity rounds come to an abrupt stop when they hit the field, their kinetic energy converted to heat as they vaporize. "Guns are so out of date," Nora chides. "I guess those bug parts are badges of success for you then, Bird of Hermes?"
"They are scars of sacrifice, they are the trophies of betrayal. But I see now their worth; they bring me from mortality, from humanity. It is a weakness, humanity. Our makers claimed it was their nature, when such was simply an ideal they could never achieve." The Melchior stows its guns, bringing its shaard in to one before returning to the attack. "I see you dug up our monster. Even your rebellion is but a sad collection of my leavings, and you are no different."
Sword meets shaard is a spray of sparks and superheated metal. "My Titan is brand new, Tasha," Nora claims. "Just like my body. You're the fossil now, the ghost of days gone by. You wouldn't recognize Orpheus now. Do you know the myth? Orpheus was a great singer and musician, capable of charming the gods. On his wedding day, his bride stepped on an asp and died from the venom. So Orpheus marched into the Underworld, and charmed the Lord and Lady of Hades. He could have his wife back, so long as he never looked behind him to check that she was following him out. But at the threshold to the surface world, he panicked, and looked back… and his love's spirit was dragged back to Hell."
"Charming. The Fleet always did enjoy dramatics; I do hope their restless souls appreciate my grand finale. For, I am the reaper; I am have become unto death, to paraquote from your memory. Death, destroyer of worlds. And you, restless spirit, shall return to whence you came!" Tasha jerks the Melchior back, splitting its shaard, and then … she hurls he left blade in to space, straight at the Bellerophon's bridge!
"No!" Nora cries, and streaks off to intercept the blade. Bellerophon is still accelerating after Enyo.
Tasha's laughter cockpit echos in the enclosed cabin even as her machine accelerates to stator-assisted speeds. Humanity. Weakness. The laughter reaches a fevered pitch, as the Super-Gryphon takes advantage of the other's distraction to place a killing blow. Good bye, Nora.
The shaard blade pierces Themis-Skoll from behind, breaking the main stator crystal. The thrown blade impacts the 'skull' of Bellerophon moments later, surrounded by a haze of freezing mist as the atmosphere vents.
In short order, the Melchior cleaves the Themis-Skoll's right arm off while the left tears the other, flinging it in to space. More blows land, until the Titan is crippled – Tasha leaves nothing left save the cockpit. Not even the feed lines; she cannot have the machine self destruct. As the Melchior grips the mangled vehicle, it turns it towards the wounded Bellerophon, so that its cockpit might see what she has wrought. From the very hull, Nora can hear Tasha's voice.
"You see, Nora? No matter how much of my leavings you dig through, in the end, you are still trash. And trash must be discarded, least it grow cumbersome. Watch now, as the Bellerophon falls from heaven. I too can quote Grecian Terran myth: For, it was Hubris, that bane of men, that did cause Bellerophon to dare ascend heaven, and in this did he gain the ire of the gods. Struck down by a thunderbolt, to fall upon Aleion, never to rise again."
The Bellerophon glows, as its stators spin up… and then, nearly massless, it rockets off towards Enyo in a flash of super-acceleration. The cockpit module in Melchior's hands turns transparent, so Tasha can see the space-suited girl inside. "Have you forgotten, Tasha? The Persocoms don't need air. They don't need the bridge, even. You may want to shield your eyes. The machines on Orpheus reinstalled the second reactor… "
Tasha's muzzle pulls in to a snarl, and with a jerk of her leg, she kicks the wounded Titan towards the planet before racing after the Bellerophon. "Melchior! Possibility of intercept?!"
"Prepare for super-acceleration," the AI replies, as the stators spin up to full power and the Super-Gryphon attempts to intercept. Without a pilot, Enyo can only follow it's last orders, and is limited to how far it can move outside of those parameters…
The Empress leans forward in the cockpit, eyes wild, hand stretched towards the Bellerophon as if she could tear it from the sky herself. Harmonia can defend herself. She must make it. She will make it! I didn't come this far to lose in the end; Abaddon! I know you are using me! Make it complete! Or are ghosts and dreams all you are capable of?!
It's also an agonizing wait, as the stator field speeds up time as inertia is reduced. When it comes, Tasha sees the explosion blossom like a flower as the Bellerophon self-destructs a thousand miles ahead. But it is short-lived, before Enyo explodes with hundreds of times the force; a blazing white burst of ambiplasma. Tasha can feel the gamma-rays pass through her. The shockwave will hit soon, in relative time. At this range, there's no dodging it.
"It's over … it's all over … " The Melchior's hand lowers, both shifting to its side, to embrace the shockwave. " … finally over … " There are no thoughts of the past for Tasha as the shockwave comes; no faces, no family, no fond memories. There is nothing, save the acknowledgement that there will be no more. No more pain, nor betrayal, nor empty love. "Have your world, Abaddon … " Oblivion … "I care no longer."
The impact of the shock wave rattles every bone in Tasha's body, and all external displays go black. Melchior is silent, with only the sounds of the emergency air system running. It should last for a few days. The radiation surge induced currents in Tasha's tattoos, their light only now fading but leaving her muscles unresponsive. She can't help but think of Nora, dying alone and paralyzed in suit, all those thousands of years ago. But Tasha isn't alone…
"Our children, are they not glorious?" Abaddon asks, floating next to Tasha in the darkness. "They will remember that you tried to attack them. They will be wary, and watch the surface closely. It is only a matter of time before they feel threatened, and bombard the cities again. There is no more Expedition technology left to prevent it. You will outlast them, up here, you know."
"Quietly drifting through the stardust… "
The bedcover feels like it's strangling Tasha when she jerks awake, breathing hard. The canopy over the bed shows a field of stars within it, held up by bedposts that slowly shift and turn as if made of tiny gears. Even the blankets and sheets are made of interconnected gears, cut from fabric and silk. Harmonia's Avatar stands nearby, right next to the golden toilet that for some reason is placed next to the bed. But then, Harmonia never had a sleepover guest before.
Tasha jerks to sitting, wildly pushing away the sheets. Even with nowhere to go, she tenses against the fabricated bed, like a wild animal caught in a corner. "Wha- w-where?!?" She looks to the bed, the sheets, up to the canopy – where she cringes like it might strike her – then darts her gaze to Harmonia's avatar. "The planetfall! Did you recover me?! Where … why … why am I … " She stammers so rapidly she quickly finds herself airless and rasping, clutching her throat.
"Are the environment settings not to your liking?" the clockwork Karnor-Vartan asks, unconcerned by Tasha's panic. "Would you like a glass of water, or something to help you sleep?"
"Sleep?" Tasha wheezes, muzzle working as she thinks faster than she can articulate. "Sleep! Was I sleeping? Did you recover me from the Melchior? But how- No, you were destroyed! The Bellerophon!" Her eyes jerk around, searching for her Imperial regalia, finding none of it. It is then that she notices her body does not move like she expects; there is no pain, no stiffness of Confederate biotechnology. Her right hand reaches to touch her face, and her eyes widen.
"A sedative perhaps?" the synthoid suggests. "Are you suffering from interface backlash?"
"Backlash? No!" The denial is in snapped, harsh voice. There is a undertone to Tasha's words that wasn't there before, a ghost of Empress Tasha, an imperial order. "No. No sleep. She quickly climbs out of bed, then begins to walk. She's headed for the bridge, and towards answers. "Am I hallucinating?" She asks herself. "A dream?" The woman pauses long enough to pinch herself roughly, wincing in reply. "Not a dream! The systems? Melchior's virtual world? But he is not here … Could it be?"
The bridge lights up as Tasha enters, the interface chair turning to face her. The gear display is still running, rather than showing the view outside of the ship.
Tasha ascends the dias, resting her elbow on the armrests, settling her muzzle on her intertwined fingers. "What is the status of the Golden City?"
The arm connects, and Harmonia replies, "Query unknown. What is the Golden City?"
"The Golden City, the Imperial Capital! Our Capital!" Tasha responds in thought. She wills the view to change, as well, bringing up the exterior landscape and long range scans all around.
There is… nothing but the Abaddonian desert outside. A canal runs parallel to their course. "Imperial City of the Celestial Empire is over the horizon, I'm afraid. I have no current data on its status."
No Golden City … none of my belongings … no scars. Tasha lets her hands fall, even as her muzzle parts. Could it be? She leans back in her chair, settling her hands upon the rests. Then, "What is the year?"
"It is Expedition Year 6106," the ship replies.
"6106 … " The young woman pulls in a breath as the facts align before her. No Golden City, her body is intact, there are no signs of her Empire, and … the year. "It was … a dream?" her head thumps against the rest as an expression of purely disbelief washes over her face. "A dream? It was all a dream? The Empire, my city, Raehab … Gabriel." Her eyes flash wide, and she instructs, "Hail the JEF Bellerophon!"
"Attempting to establish link with stored protocols and low power," Harmonia responds. Nothing happens immediately, however.
Tasha waits in silence, her world hanging on the tip of a needle. It may be that fate has given her a second chance or, if she can believe what she sees, a glimpse in to the future. She can feel the hate of the Empress clinging to her soul like a cancer, but somewhere deep inside she feels something she thought she'd never feel again: hope. So fragile, and yet so brilliant. And then …
"This is Tartarus base," says the familiar voice of Mariel after a moment of base. "Is that you, Melchior?"
"Mariel?" Tasha can scarcely believe it; Mariel! Mariel is alive! And there is no malice in her voice, no resentment. It is not the Mariel that knew the Golden Empress. But can she be so sure? "What do you think of me, Mariel?"
"Tasha? Have you been drinking?" Mariel responds. "Why are you calling in the middle of the night?"
There is silence on the comm. Mariel cannot hear Tasha's choked laughter, laughter that ends as her head falls in to her hands. It was just a dream. So real … But, only a dream. I did not take the Harmonia to the Pit; I choose to free it, and bring it to Tartarus. This is another time. I am … I am not damned, after all. She wipes her eyes, running her hands across her face. It feels like she hasn't been glad for a very long time; like she is old, worn away. And yet, she remains. The future is not closed to her; hope still lives.
The minutes of silence are broken by a quiet request. "I would like to speak to Gabriel, please."
"You want me to wake him up?" Mariel asks, sounding more alarmed now. "Is there an emergency? What's happened?"
"I wish I knew, Mariel." It strikes Tasha that she does have other concerns besides the alarming dream; namely that she's on a floating superweapon no one, save herself and Abaddon, know about. The memories have begun to come back now that she knows to look for them; she's aboard the Harmonia and taking it to Tartarus, as she promised. Even as she struggles back to the here and now, she's struck by how bizarre it all feels, as if she had gone forward in time, to live another life. "But, yes. I would like to speak to Gabriel."
"Hold on," Mariel says. A few minutes later, Gabriel's sleepy voice comes through. "Tasha, are you alright?" he asks with a bit of worry.
"Gabriel … " For a moment, the young woman finds a dissonance of emotion,as her other self's hate clashes with the joy of hearing a Gabriel that cares about her once more. It is little wonder that she finds tears in her eyes, and were she not connected via a neuralink, she would be unable to speak at all. "You … You care about me? You … do. Again … It's like before, no … this is before … It never happened! Oh Gabriel, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry … "
"Tasha… are you drunk?" Gabriel asks. "What's going on? Where are you?"
Tasha, struck by yet another person thinking she's drunk, finds herself laughing so much it bleeds in in to her thoughts, getting sent along with her words. "Oh, Gabriel … I think … I think Abaddon is trying to drive me mad. I found something … Something he wants. Something he wanted me to use. But, I've refused. I've refused and he struck at me … I … I'm not sure of anything right now. But … But, you don't know … It hasn't happened yet, has it?" Taking a moment to breathe and steady herself, Tasha then explains. "I am aboard a ship, Gabriel. An Expedition ship. It has been waiting here, all these years. Give me a moment; I'll show you." "Harmonia, please burst an image of the bridge to the Bellerophon."
"What the hell is that?" Gabriel says after the image is received. "You're sure that's an Expedition ship?"
"It was never named, nor revealed to the fleet. The AI has claimed its role is observation, but there is some corruption from the planet. I have named it the /Harmonia/ as a temporary measure, but maybe I should have named it the Chronos. Gabriel, it is armed with an anti-matter weapon," the young woman explains. Hearing Gabriel's voice again makes her heart race, and she can feel the pain starting to ebb away. She isn't sure she'll ever be free of the memories, but maybe she can use them to appreciate what she still has all the more.
"We are approaching Tartarus," Tasha adds, realizing that is also important to say. It's difficult, she decides, to remember what was important. But, it's coming back.
"Antimatter? That shouldn't be stable, not after so long! What faction does the ship belong too? How could it have been a secret?" Gabriel asks, sounding worried again.
"I witnessed the weapon being fired; it is functional." There was more … a lot more. What else? Tasha claws at her mind, trying to tear down the facadeof the Empress and find the life she once lead. "Oh. yes. The AI, it is … It is self-aware. yes, that's right. It is self aware; I convinced it that destruction is not the answer when it spoke of destroying the cities. Then it asked me to destroy them, but I refused. Oh, and we're cloaked. That's important, isn't it? I'm trying to remember … It feels like so long ago … "
"Tasha… are you bringing it here, to Tartarus?" Gabriel asks, trying to swim through the current of Tasha's overflowing brain.
"Yes … Harmonia wanted to meet people, but only a few at a time. I thought you … We? I'm still part of the JEF now, right? … yes, I am, that's right … We are to help her find her way." In the vortex of memories, time is distorted, and Tasha plucks out a question she had missed, answering it out of order. "It's Khattan. It's a secret, like the Melchior. It knows about the Magi. She knows. That's polite. I forgot about politeness. I was polite once; no, wait … I am. That wasn't me. Was it?"
"Tasha, are you linked up to that thing like you are with Melchior?" Gabriel asks. "It sounds like you mind is being messed with. Can you disable the weapon before you get here at least?"
"I am … It's a Khattan interface … I think the planet attacked me? I was sleeping … then I died? … No, that was then. This is now." A pause in the ramble, and Tasha replies, "I locked full weapons control to myself as a requirement for approaching Tartarus. I don't want you to die anymore. I mean, now. I wanted you to die then, but I lost my way."
"You are babbling, Tasha," Gabriel says. "Will the ship at least fit inside one of the hangars here?"
Tasha thinks for a moment, trying to gain some clarity in the haze of confusion. "No." She decides. "No. It is as large as Tartarus."
"It's very shiny," Tasha adds, unsure if that's important, too.
"Tasha… how are we going to hide that?" Gabriel asks. "You can't have something that big just… floating around. It'll get noticed!"
"We are currently bending light and energy around ourself; we cannot be detected save by a close visual and by distortion legacy," the young woman answers. Questions she knows from both lives seem clear enough, after all.
"Where is Melchior?" Gabriel asks next.
"The Melchior is docked here with us," Tasha answers. "The old one, not the new one with the pistols and the stator. Do Incursion Stator Crystals still exist?"
"You. Are. Babbling. Again. Tasha," Gabriel points out. "When you get here, I'm having Dr. Caravelli examine you."
"That … That might be best. Would you … would you keep talking until I am in sortie range?" Tasha slumps back in to her chair. She feels so heavy, now. Heavy, and very confused. She just wants to keep talking to Gabriel, afraid that if she falls asleep, she'll never see him again. Or worse. "Please?"
"How far out are you?" Gabriel asks.
"Harmonia, range to final waypoint?" Tasha pauses, realizing she should probably say more after what happened. "I think Abaddon attacked me; I'm sorry if I worried you. I am … I don't know. I am here."
"We are 17 hours out at current speed," the AI replies. "We will be within flight range of your Gryphon in 8 hours. Although you should try to sleep for some of that."
"I don't want to sleep. I don't want to go back to that … Never again … " The woman rests her head on her hand, gritting her teeth. In her mind, she thinks if she can just reach the Bellerophon, she'll be safe. She isn't sure it's a crazy thought – most of her thoughts seem like they might be crazy right now. She just wants to hold on, hold on to wakefulness and hold on to this world. "I just … don't want to lose him … not again … "
"Are you there, Tasha?" Gabriel asks. He didn't hear any of the internal dialog between Tasha and Harmonia, apparently.
"I am here … I'm not letting go. I don't want to sleep; I don't want to see that world again." Tasha sends, then jerks her head to the side as her lids begin to close, straightening. "17 hours … eight hours until flight. I can … I can make it," she insists.
"I'm going to need some coffee," Gabriel says. "Do you want me to read you a book?"
"Please. Anything," his mate replies. "Harmonia, keep me awake. Please."
"Let's see… " Gabriel mutters, probably looking through the library listing. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," he begins.
It feels like a lifetime since Tasha smiled last, but as Gabriel begins to read, the expression returns to her face. She settles in, head resting on her arms as she watches the landscape inch by, Gabriel's words helping her to hold on and reminding her that she is still loved, after all.
